


Coffee Stained

by 3ManyShips5me



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Casino AU, Drug Use, Haven't decided on pairings yet, M rating for drugs and stuff, Possible love triangle later on, Rating May Change, Slight OOC, Terminal Illnesses, Warning: Someone will die, Will update tags as story progresses, reference to prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3337115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3ManyShips5me/pseuds/3ManyShips5me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> “He’s dying, Kid. I can do no more than slow the process.” No. He refused to believe his father could succumb to illness. </i>
  <br/><i>The silver-haired scientist had to be lying. With treatment, his father <b>had</b> to get better. Kid had never trusted him; why Lord Death did continued to baffle his son.</i>
  <br/><i>“Surely you have some explanation as to why he refuses to so much as create a will?” It was a question he’d heard time and time again by friend and foe alike. Something Kid himself couldn't figure out. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>"You know, he doesn't have much longer... </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Stained

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers, this is mostly a warning letting all of you know this will be my first ever fic so go easy on me please. But all comments are greatly appreciated!

Death City was named after the man who ran it. After all, it was only fair when his questionable business was the only thing that kept the metropolis alive. It was named Shibusen: a massive casino that drew people in from all over the world, whether only to view the towering architecture or to spend their life savings. Infamy was how he got his nickname in youth; “Lord Death” was named so because he profited from other people’s losses. But the man was growing old, well into his sixties, and the bustling city was aware of that. Productivity had dropped and profits were dwindling with the old man’s health. It was a mystery as to why he hadn’t named his only son as his successor just yet and theories were rising as to just why. 

The winter air was somehow not a bother to the young man. Whether it wasn’t cold enough to feel or the words echoing in his head were just too unforgettable. 

_“He’s dying, Kid. I can do no more than slow the process.” No. He refused to believe his father could succumb to illness.The silvery haired scientist had to be lying. With treatment, his father **had** to get better. Kid had never trusted him; why Lord Death did continued to baffle his son._

_“Surely you have some explanation as to why he refuses to so much as create a will?” It was a question he’d heard time and time again by friend and foe alike. Something Kid himself had no answer for, except for a short explanation that it didn’t matter. His father’s wellbeing was more important than any money to his name, so Kid never bothered asking._

_“You know, he doesn’t have much longer…”_

The man who called himself Lord Death was coughing his lungs out, decades of smoking being named the reason. Metastasized cancer was eating away at the old man’s lungs, Kid could hardly remember a time his father wasn’t coughing these days. Neither of them had ever expected a late stage cancer diagnosis, yet somehow, neither shed a tear. What stuck fresh in the young man’s mind was just how nonchalant his father had been with an expiration date.

_"I’d give you anywhere from five months to three. We’ll begin treatment as soon as possible, depending on how your body responds, you could have another year. Maybe longer."_

_“That’s inconvenient.” Had simply been one of Lord Death’s few reactions, speaking as if someone had just told him his car had a flat tired. “Thank you, Dr. Nygus. I’ll contact you about starting treatment early in the morning.” There was no more discussion after that. Lord Death was sent into a coughing fit shortly after, leaving Kid in the back of the room with a pale face. That night Dr. Franken Stein had been contacted, and Kid was being sent on an errand the next morning._

The dreadful parallel lines in his hair finally called attention to themselves as they so rudely interrupted him from his brooding. Three white horizontal stripes contrasting black hair were the signature trait of those that dared to wear the name of Death. Kid’s father had them, as had his grandfather and his predecessors before him; though the stripes were known to skip generations-particularly the women-though it was uncommon. The lines should have been undeniable proof to Kid’s heritage, but could he ever truly hope for myths and rumors to not be construed when they provided entertainment, if not also mild relief, for the people? It was becoming tiresome with all types of social media questioning who his father was, but the truth should have been obvious.

_“Go to this address, and tell the man who answers that I sent you. If you hear any… “Strange noises” just wait about twenty minutes. Shouldn’t be any longer than that.”_  
What the doctor meant by “strange noises” the young man hoped he wouldn’t discover. 

This was the side of Death City Kid wanted little to do with. It had been a long cab ride from his pleasant, clean, _symmetric_ mansion, and he still had a long ways to walk. He’d been given the address to an apartment complex, yet could see none in sight. All along the street, sidewalks were littered with garbage, bins already over brimming. Due to the ice, he imagined, very few cars traveled on the unplowed road. But there was no lack of the heat he felt from glares burning holes in his back. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if coming alone was a bad idea. 

What if someone were to pull out a gun? His father’s fortune was no secret, Kid could be held for a massive ransom. He scratched at a nonexistent itch on the side of his head, golden eyes flicking from block to block fretfully. Relax, he told himself, no one human could be **that** bad right? At the thought, a large black rat scurried across his path, chattering angrily as it ducked into a storm drain and out of the frigid wind.

Well. An animal could be.

A shiver finally racked his body, causing him to shove his black-gloved hands deeper within the pockets of his equally dark slacks. _You should wear a jacket._ Somehow, Dr. Stein’s words echoed through his thoughts as a cruel reminder that Kid had been too stubborn to listen. Why was he being sent on an errand anyway? More importantly, what had he been sent to retrieve? Who was he even meeting, for that matter. There had been a name, but he couldn’t quite recall. Ghost? Phantom? Something along the lines of-

“Oh!” A girl bounced off of him and onto the ground, yellow pigtails flying; though, that was the very least of his concerns.

“Hey! Who do you think you are! Watch-“ the nameless girl started loudly, getting to her feet in an instant.

“I can’t be seen like this!” Her angry shouting was interrupted by Kid’s horrified exclamation while he hurriedly fanned the hot liquid only to soon have it nearly freezing on his chest. In the same instant, the girl finally realized who she’d accidentally spilled half of two coffees on.

“You’re Death the Kid.” The fury faded to awe, then regret. 

The one day he’d chosen to wear a white shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't figured it out, the youngsters are all quite a bit older than canon and well into adulthood. Kid is around twenty five. Let me know what you think? Hopefully chapter two will be up soon!


End file.
